Immortal's Love
by silver-kin
Summary: It was a time that happened only because the magician turned her into a human, into a mortal. Yet,now, he still could not forget her. But what was the point? An immortal couldn't love, and Lir could remember all he wanted, but nothing would change.


Disclaimer: The Last Unicorn is the property of Peter S. Beagle.

**Immortal's Love**

On some nights, when he had an agreeable amount of free time and no unresolved matter that demanded his immediate attention, Lir liked to sit by the window in his room and gaze out into the black sky. He would sit and feel the breeze blowing on his face, all the time listening to the sounds of crashing waves from the ocean below.

It had been years since the incident at the beach, long dragging years, but he could see it in his mind as if it had taken place only yesterday. Or, perhaps, sooner even. It was like part of his memory had been embedded into his mind, eternally etched into the very core of his being. All he needed to do was close his eyes and he images would flicker behind his eyelids, dancing in front of him. With only the barest amount of concentration, he could line up all the images, could give them their proper positions and played roles, and he could relive the past all over again.

His land had prospered marvelously; wealth was apparent everywhere one turned. The soil was rich and the forests were lush with greenery of many kinds. Flowers decorated the earth that had bore witness to many events, blooming in all their short or long-lived glory. The people of his kingdom were happy and content, pleased with their newest leader, pleased with their work and wages, pleased with their lives.

Travelers passed through often enough, bringing with them tales of the lands beyond his reign. Everyone wanted to hear their stories, to hear more of the ongoing matters of other kingdoms and villages. They would listen to anything the passersby had to offer, but mostly, they wanted to hear of the unicorns.

Lir knew that they had returned to their forests. He knew they were set free that day, and that his land was so rich partly because of the number of the one-horned creatures that had galloped on. He knew of the whispered rumors of sightings and the hushed talk people venturing into forests again in hopes of catching a glimpse of them.

He knew, and hoped desperately to see a particular one of them himself.

When he thought of her, when his mind went back to the moments they shared with each other, he would get the feeling of intense longing. Almost like a part of him died inside every time he thought of her. When she was human, the sheer sight of her would take his breath away. Common sense would cease to present themselves to him and he would be driven by the need to make the person in front of him acknowledge his accomplishments. A nod, a word, or, on rare occasions, a smile. Any of those things would lift his heart high up into the sky, and a joy that knew no bounds would fill his body.

At the beach, when her magic entered his body and he breathed life again, he saw her as the unicorn she truly was and was not. He saw the true form of the woman he had fallen in love with and had been overwhelmed by awe. She was magnificent, the long trailing mane that followed the wind's direction, the long horn that glowed with a brilliant light, and the eyes that held truth itself in them. He saw her and loved her for the unicorn she was and for the woman she once was. In his mind, it did not matter; either way, she was the one he loved with all his heart.

After the dream in the forest, the one and only time where she had come to him, Lir never saw her again. When he slept, he would either see only brief, tiny shadows of his memory trying desperately to conjure up a dream of her but failing in the end, or not dream at all. At night, he would sleep restlessly, tossing and turning as the images burned in his eyes, but never really came to focus enough for him to see them.

Lir could not forget her. He had tried to, he really, truly had, but he never succeeded. Her every move that was filled with unmatchable grace, the voice that could entrance him forever, the eyes that stared straight into his soul; everything he wanted to remember and to forget all at the same time. None of them would leave him, and he clung onto them as desperately as he pushed them away, putting distance in between him and the memories.

With each thought of her, his heart would give a painful lurch. It felt like it was set ablaze, burning from the touch of the hottest coals from Hell itself. It burned with a kind of pain more painful than dying was, and his heart would threaten to rip in half. Many times did he contemplate reaching in and taking hold of it himself, and he would imagine tearing it into a thousand pieces before setting it on the windowsill for the wind to blow away, an image that would bring a bitter smile to his lips.

He missed her. Filled with such a painful sense of longing, of wanting mixed with needing and knowing it was an impossible wish because a unicorn was immortal, and immortal beings could not feel love. Often he found himself staring of into the distance, but he did his best to refrain from doing so in public, where his happy subjects might see him. They were all so satisfied with their second chance at living a good life, to see him in such a state would only serve to diminish their happiness.

A king was meant to be invincible, after all, and although all heroes had their own tragic tale, his was meant to remain unspoken.

Hence, the reason for the window and the ocean and the waves crashing onto the sand. Sometimes, Lir would strain his eyes as he tried to imagine what his father could have possibly seen in the edges of the water, but all he had were images. He never gave up trying though, even if his efforts had grown weary with time. Another thing he liked to do was imagine her in the waters. Every night, he would picture her standing in her silent way near the thin line where ocean met beach and beach met ocean. He would draw in the hushed beauty of her features from memory, sketch in every detail.

It was the only dream he could have of her, the only way for him to see her again. It was all he had, the leftovers from a love never meant to be. Because of that, no matter how bitter the taste of longing in his mouth, regardless of the way his chest tightened and breathing became a difficult task, he continued to dream of her, of an immortal's impossible love.

**Fin**


End file.
